


Wispy

by Mothboyerotica



Series: Witchling [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Erotic Hypnosis, Fantasy, Insectoid, M/M, Sex Pollen, Teratophilia, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-13 23:00:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16481390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothboyerotica/pseuds/Mothboyerotica
Summary: A witch apprentice goes wandering in the woods for some mushrooms and stumbles across much more than he bargained for.For all your moth fairy fucking needs.





	Wispy

He moved carefully through the marsh, leather boots finding solid ground as he made his way through the thick foliage. 

“Fucking witches,” he muttered under his breath. Just because he was her apprentice didn’t mean he should be expected to go out hunting for mushrooms in the middle of the night.  _ Oh but they have to be collected in the full moonlight,  _ like hell they do. Farrow grunted and kicked a few leaves off of his boot. The small, glowing balls of light he had conjured floated about his head, lighting the trail before him. Not that there was a real trail. That would be too easy. 

The witchling finally found the grove his mistress had spoken of. It had only taken two fucking hours wading through muck. Logs and beds of moss littered the ground. Small blue flowers grew among the mushrooms. The whole place had a strange glow to it. A layer of fog was over the ground and moved as he stepped into the clearing. He sent the lights ahead, bringing a bit more clarity to the scene. That’s when he heard a flutter of wings to the left. 

It looked like… a huge moth. But as his eyes adjusted, Farrow realized it was some kind of fae. A huge, furry thing with massive wings. It was about eight feet tall to his six and was staring intently at the man with large, black eyes. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” the fae said, blinking. 

“It’s a free forest,” Farrow snapped. “I’m just here to collect some things and I’ll be on my way.” 

“Those are not ripe for harvest. It is not yet midnight.” The fae stood up and moved over to the witchling. “Do not disturb the grounds or you will be-“ he trailed off. One of Farrow’s wisps had come to rest in front of the creature’s eyes. The man smirked and waved his hand, letting the light pulse softly. The fae’s posture slackened slightly, his wings dropping to his sides. 

“You were saying?” Farrow chuckled. “Fairies. So annoying. If one more person tries to boss me around tonight, I’ll lose my fucking head. You just watch the pretty light while I do my work, alright?” The creature nodded slightly, his mouth hanging open, completely entranced. The human shook his head and walked through the mist, kneeling down by a patch of the mushrooms and removing his knife. He had zoned out a little when Morgan explained how to collect them. He knew how to pick mushrooms for goodness sake. 

But he had no sooner applied pressure to the base of the stem of one when the whole patch shot a cloud of pink spores into his face. Farrow grunted and gasped on instinct, stumbling back. He fell into his rear, thankfully onto a patch of moss. He blinked, sniffing as he tried to clear his sinuses. A strange numbness settled into his brain as he blinked. 

“What the fuck,” he gasped, shaking his head. He rubbed his nose quickly, trying to clear his head. Farrow suddenly remembered what Morgan wanted the mushrooms for. Dried and crushed, they were charmingly referred to as sex pollen, a popular ingredient in love potions. It dulled the senses and made the recipient compliant and insatiably horny. Farrow was beginning to feel the beginnings of that second part now. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled. His cheeks were flushed now. “Fuck!” He quickly shoved a hand down his pants, rubbing his fingers against his clit roughly. It wasn’t enough. He tossed his knife to the side and sat up, feeling far too restricted in his clothes. That’s when his eyes went back to the fae. He snapped his fingers and the light disappeared, leaving the creature blinking in confusion. 

“That was rude,” he huffed. Then he saw the sorry state of the witchling and let out a giggle. “You didn’t listen,” he said, his strange mouth pulling into a smile. “Would you like a hand there, little witch?” 

“Yes,” Farrow gasped, blushing hard with shame. “Yes I would.” The fae laughed and moved over to him, careful to avoid the patches of mushrooms on the ground. 

“It’ll take about six hours to wear off,” he mused. 

“I can’t wait that long,” Farrow growled. “Now why don’t you be a good little sprite and fuck me?” 

“I like you talking like that. Still so desperate but so filled with the need to be in control.” He knelt in front of Farrow, still smiling that stupid, smug grin. “So very-“ 

“Shut up,” the witchling growled. He waved his hand and another light appeared, pulsing in front of the fae’s face. Farrow groaned as he realized that was exactly what the creature wanted. The fae’s antennas twitched as he smiled contently. “No more back talk. No more bossing me around. You’re going to obey me now, yes?” 

“Yes,” the moth said softly. 

“Good,” Farrow muttered as he wormed his way out of his pants. He was dripping between his legs. “You’re going to- to fuck me until I tell you to stop. Going to be good for me.”

“Good for you,” the fae repeated. Farrow rolled his eyes and grabbed the thing, pulling him to the ground into a feverish kiss. The fae moaned softly and brought a hand down, stroking and rubbing at Farrow’s folds. His thumb found the man’s clit and he nearly came. Nearly. “D-Do you have a cock?” he managed to groan. 

“Yes sir,” the fae whispered. 

“Do you have a name?”

“Call me Solare.” 

“Fucking fairies, fucking name games, fine!” His hands groped over the fae’s hips and thighs.  “Solare, I want you to use your cock. Please. Right down there, right now.” The fae obeyed immediately. From some fuzzy sheath, his cock emerged, erect and already dripping. He slid into Farrow’s pussy easily and began to thrust. The witchling moaned and wrapped his arms around Solare’s neck. “That’s good. G-Good fairy.”

The fae moaned and bucked his hips, fucking the human slow and deep. All the focus Farrow could muster went to maintaining his wisp of light. It seemed to make Solare happy at least. The moth stared at it, his body working almost automatically. His expression was one of blank yearning. Farrow hardly knew where to touch him, what would make the fae feel good. His hands settled on his back, just beneath the wings and rubbed gently at the near-downy fluff there. 

“Oh, witchling,” Solare moaned. Jackpot. His thrusting increased in speed, going deeper. 

“Gorgeous creature,” Farrow murmured. Maybe it was the mushrooms talking. Maybe it was just his own preferences for strange and inhuman lovers shining through. In the back of his mind, he noted he would probably need to write about this in his grimoire. Purely to document the encounter. To be so close to a member of any fae court… if he even had half a mind once he was done, he’d certainly need to ask some questions. But his mind was far away from studies now. “Fuck, Solare,” he moaned, his back arching against the moss. His shirt would be stained to hell when he got back, that much was certain. 

“Pretty,” was all the fae could muster, grunting. 

“Pretty indeed.” Farrow panted, feeling himself growing closer, reaching a tipping point. “Fuck, Solare, I-“ his words trailed off into a shout as he came, thighs wrapping around the fae’s rear and holding him close. The man let out a soft whimper and sat up a bit, bringing the creature with him. Solare’s eyes were still fixed on the light as Farrow untangled himself. His coming only brought a minute bit of relief. He needed more. 

“Stand up,” he grunted. “Stand up and- and fuck my mouth now. Be a good boy for me, yeah?”

“Y- Yeah,” Solare said with a nod. He stood, his wings twitching at his sides. Farrow positioned the glowing orb just above him, letting it hang there in midair. The human positioned himself on his knees, unbuttoning his shirt. The night air was cool against his still wet cunt, but he was too far gone to care. 

“I wanna hear you while I suck you,” he said, running his hands over the fae’s hips. “I want to hear you begging.” He licked the length of Solare’s dick, kissing the soft skin of his belly, running fingers through the fluff on his legs. He took the tip into his mouth, then swallowed him deep. He felt a shudder go through the fae’s body as his hands came to rest on his head. 

“Pl- Please,” Solare gasped. His hips began to roll against Farrow’s face, thrusting deep into his throat. “Please, fuck me. I- I want you to- make me yours, sir. Make me all yours. Your good boy, your pretty plaything. Your toy- ah!” His wings flinched, flying out for a second before falling limply back to his side. Farrow squeezed the fae’s ass, spreading his cheeks and pressing his fingers against his hole. He felt Solare’s body jerk and his hands tug at his hair. 

“Please!” He cried a little louder, grinding his hips deeper so he nearly choked Farrow with his cock. “Make me come! Make me yours! Yours, yours, please!” His words fell into strange babbling and chirps that made Farrow’s ears ring. He thrust his fingers into the fae’s ass, not sure if he should be groping for a prostate or what would make the creature most happy. In the end, it didn’t matter. Solare came immediately, spurting thick, sweet cum down Farrow’s throat. The man swallowed greedily, feeling just a bit of that strange itching numb feeling in his mind give way. He pulled away moments later, licking his lips. The fae was panting, eyes ever fixed on the light. 

“Did I satisfy my sir?” Solare asked, his antennae twitching. 

“Very much so,” Farrow murmured. “Here, come, come lie with me.” He didn’t think he had the energy to walk anywhere. Or that he could last the trek back to Morgan’s house without stopping at least ten times to masturbate. Solare took a seat next to him. Gently, the witchling let his light fade out of existence. Slowly, the fae blinked and glanced over at the human with a knowing smile. He extended a wing and wrapped it around Farrow’s shoulders, pulling him snug against his body. The fae was warm, strangely so. And soft. 

“Poor thing,” he murmured. “Did that take the edge off, at least?” The human nodded, feeling himself curl up against Solare’s torso. 

“Yes… thank you.”

“Thank  _ you, _ ” the fae chuckled. “You wouldn’t be the first I’ve helped in this kind of predicament. But you are the first who could make wisps… those are a bit of a weakness for my kind.”

“Like a moth to a flame,” Farrow laughed. He shivered slightly and felt another wave of arousal work through him. “Gods, six hours… six hours of this.” 

“Hush, little witchling,” Solare purred. He slipped a hand over the man’s thigh, down between his legs. “Your fae will take good care of you now. Good care of his sweet witch.” Farrow gasped as fingers worked along his skin, rubbing against his clit in sweet circles. 

“T-Thank you,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry for being so rude earlier.” 

“Maybe a little relief was needed,” the fae murmured, leaning over to kiss at Farrow’s neck. A strange, flicking tongue tickled at his ear and jaw lightly. “I’ll keep you safe and warm until the morning. Don’t you worry.” The fae bundled him up in soft, warm fluff, laying him back, teasing him softly. Farrow sank into the bliss of numbness, the pleasure brought by the fae’s fingers and tongue. And he fell asleep like that, tangled up in softness, body and mind. 

 

“What a sorry sight.” Morgan clicked her tongue as she stood over the pair. “Farrow. Get up, you sod.” She nudged the sleeping man with the toe of her boot. The witchling woke with a bleary start, untangling himself somewhat from Solare’s arms. “Well, you didn’t listen to a word I said. Didn’t get my mushrooms, and went and shagged yourself a prince of the Seelie Court. What have you to say for yourself?” Her arms were crossed over her chest as Farrow scrambled to get his clothes back on. 

“Ah… sorry, ma’am,” he mumbled, grinning sheepishly. He glanced at Solare as the fae stood up, shaking off his wings. The morning sun had cleared away the mist from the night before, leaving dew on the moss and logs and mushrooms. “A prince?” He turned to the fae, raising a brow. Solare shrugged. 

“Titles. They don’t much matter, in my opinion,” he said. 

“Oh yes they do,” Morgan sighed, rubbing her temple. “Yes they do, highness. And I will hear no end of badgering from your Folk for this.” 

“I have entered a covenant with your witchling,” Solare said indignantly, puffing out his chest. 

“You have?” Morgan asked. 

“You have?” Farrow nearly tripped as he was pulling on his pants. 

“Yes, I’ve just decided. I will teach him in the ways of my people, as you teach him the magics of yours. Surely there is no better pairing of educations for a budding witch. And if I recall, Morgan, you had one such covenant with-“

“Alright! Alright, fine.” She huffed and tossed a basket of flowers and herbed into Farrow’s hands. “A covenant it is. You take him Wednesdays and weekends, I’ll do the rest.”

“Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. Final offer.” 

“Deal.” Morgan bowed to the fae. “Now come on, Farrow. I’m sure you have lots to write in your grimoire about the dangers of improper harvesting and… the anatomy of the Fair Folk.”

“What… the fuck just happened?” Farrow muttered, glancing from his teacher to his… new teacher. 

“You’ve made your bed, and now you’ll lie in it,” Morgan said. “Now come. You’ll see your prince tomorrow.” Farrow’s cheeks flushed brightly as Solare smiled. The fae spread his wings and bowed, placing a hand on his chest.

“Tomorrow then, my witchling.” He winked. Farrow just blinked and hurried after Morgan, taking great care to avoid the mushroom patches. 

“But really,” he said once he caught up with her. “What did I do?”

“You made a choice,” she said simply, glancing at him from the side. Her mouth quirked into a smirk. “And a damn good one, by the looks of it.”

Well… he reasoned there were worse creatures to come across in the middle of a magical sex haze. 


End file.
